


Even The Snow Falls For You

by AGayCannibal



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Frank is sort of a dumbass, Humor, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 01:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGayCannibal/pseuds/AGayCannibal
Summary: Okay, Frank is most definitely not Santa, but he did have a very good reason for breaking into the house.





	Even The Snow Falls For You

“‘Twas the night before Christmas,” Frank muttered to himself, shoulders hunched against the onslaught of snow, “When Frank Iero fell to his death. Or froze. Whichever comes first at this point.”

His shoes made skid marks against the ice as he struggled to find his footing on the ice-slick panels of his roof. Digging his gloved-fingers into the sloping slate ground beneath him, he slowly inched his way down the roof, stomach laying flat against the tiles as he slid with caution. He lifted his head, twisting his body to try and look how much further he had until he was at the end of his roof. 

It was to no avail, however, because the flurry of snowflakes was blinding him anytime he looked up. Fuck New Jersey winters, seriously. If he heard Let It Snow on the radio one more time, he was going to call up the radio host and tell them to take a good hard look out their fucking window. 

His clothes were completely soaked through from the ice and snow, and he was quivering despite his layers of various sweatshirts, his winter coat (and not the shitty Walmart ones -- his was quality), and the plethora of socks he had on. He trembled as another bitter wind whipped snow into his back and made him clutch the roof panelling as hard as he could.

“Fuck this,” he grumbled, muffled against his scarf. He wasn’t spending thirty minutes slowly crawling down. He let go of the panels he was holding on to keep himself steady, and felt himself slip down the roof as though it were a slide. A really bumpy, fucking freezing ass slide.

He hurdled down the roof -- backwards, feet-first, and feeling a soft pain shoot up his stomach at every panel he was forced to slide over. He was only able to stop himself when his shoes smacked against the rain gutters, sending him rolling to his side as he scrambled to find a solid grip in the ice to stop his descend.

He took a moment, breathing the warm air from where his mouth was pressed up against the cloth of his scarf. He tried to steady his serrated heart beat, trying not to think of he could easily plummet to his fucking death (okay, plummet to his sprained-ankle, but still). 

He shifted his body weight downward, using the rain gutters to support himself as he lifted himself to his feet at the edge of his roof. The snow blasted him in the face, feeling like pin pricks of needles in his skin as the ice bit at him.

Still keeping one hand on the edging of his roof, he leant forward to grab at where his Christmas lights had slipped and were streaming down from the roof in a tangled mess of vibrant reds and greens. 

His fingers skimmed the wires, and he sunk down onto his knees. His chest was flush against the rain gutters as he had one arm hugging it. He used his other arm to catch the string of holiday lights that were being swung around by the harsh winter winds. Just as his hand was fastening around the snow-dusted bulbs, there was a sudden and repeated flash of movement from beneath him.

Subconsciously, he went into fight or flight mode to fend off whatever was the source of the movement. In theory, he was to either stand up to protect himself or run down the ladder. In practice, neither happened, and he found himself falling off his roof still clutching the Christmas lights. He was suspended in the air, just a couple inches below his roof, with his only support coming from the Christmas lights. The mixture of his weight on the lights and the harsh winds sent him spinning and swinging as he held onto them for dear life, sending prayers to a God he didn’t believe in to keep him steady.

He lunged forward and grabbed ahold of the roof and pulled himself up. He was just about fucking done with these stupid Christmas lights that wouldn’t stay in place, and the horrible New Jersey weather that made them fall in the first place, and so beyond done with the thing that made him fucking fall off his roof.

It was his phone, vibrating in his back pocket.

It was a wonder it didn’t fall out of his pocket with how he just fucking bungee-jumped off his own roof with Christmas lights as his lifeline. He took it out of his pocket, numb fingers barely able to curl around the device to keep it in his hand. He answered it reluctantly, ready to, holy shit, beat the fuck out of whoever just called him.

“Yes, hello, this is Frank Iero, and I’m kind of busy. Call back later,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“You’re not too busy for me,” the voice on the line said, nonchalant and oblivious to Frank’s poorly-executed way of masking his anger.

Of course, Brian had the audacity to say something like that, Frank thought disdainfully. 

“Look, Brian,” he mustered to keep his voice as level as humanly possible after swinging like fucking Tarzan in his yard, “I really am busy. Yes, even too busy for you.”

His boss had obviously built up a resilience towards reacting with anything other than an authoritative, monotone voice that sounded like he was perpetually bored with his life (which, he probably was, in Frank’s humble opinion).

Unperturbed, Brian continued, “The person you had originally arranged to cover your shift in two days from now called in. What was her name -- Lindsey? She has the flu.” 

“What do you want me to do about that?” Frank retorted, “Go to her house and play nurse? I’m not into that.”

Brian didn’t react. Frank sometimes wished he would.

“You have to come in,” he explained, then added, as if Frank needed the clarification, “For your shift this Wednesday. Unless you can get someone else to cover it.”

“What,” Frank stated, not even as a question. “No.”

“Yes,” Brian replied simply.

“I requested it off.”

“And now I’m requesting you on,” Brian replied calmly, “See you on Wednesday.”

“No! I asked for it off three weeks -- “ But the line had already gone dead, and Frank was practically seething, “Fucking asshole. Going to give my two week notice right now.”

Which, of course, he wouldn’t, because he needed a stable income and couldn’t afford to quit his job.

“Fucking,” Frank clenched his fist around his phone, and -- before he could stop himself -- hurled it against a wall. Except he forgot that he was on top of his house, and consequently, not around any easily accessible walls.

Frank watched in horrified dismay as his phone went shooting through the air and clattering against the edge of his neighbor’s chimney. The terror intensified when the wind pushed it down the chimney, the device disappearing out of sight.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered under his breath, throwing himself to his feet and almost slipping on the ice to land back on his face, “Oh, fuck.”

He shuffled his feet against the ice and thick layers of snow, as though he were ice-skating (he got to swing and ice skate in the same day; he was truly in a Winter Wonderland, he thought bitterly). He made his way over to the ladder, scaling down it, and looking up at his neighbor’s house in distress. He let go of whatever pride he actually still had left from swinging like a fucking abominable snowman monkey from his roof, and trudged through the fresh snow to his neighbor’s front door.

He knocked before he could give himself a moment to back out, and waited to embarrass himself in front of whoever answered the door.

He didn’t actually know his neighbor. Well, he knew the other one -- an old lady who shut herself up in the house all day and resented anyone who even walked past her yard --, but this one had just moved into the neighborhood a couple months ago. Between work and the holidays, he didn’t have anytime to acquaintance himself with the new neighbor. Frank hoped that first impressions weren’t actually that important because he looked like a wet sock and didn’t know how he was going to explain that his phone was in their fucking fireplace.

No one answered. Frank didn’t want to be rude, but he knocked again, and stood back to wait. 

Nothing.

Heaving a sigh, he looked up to his neighbor’s chimney, the bane of his existence at that moment. He considered for a moment, casting a glance back at his yard, and left his neighbor’s porch. 

He grabbed his ladder, quickly maneuvering it to rest against the side of his neighbor’s house. If his neighbor wasn’t home, he could easily just go in and get his phone himself -- no harm, no foul. 

He made sure the ladder was secure before moving up it quickly. He made it to the roof, and crawled on his hands and knees, not wanting to risk slipping and falling off a roof for the second time that day. He got to the chimney, using it to push himself up to lean over it.

He looked down it. The problem was, he couldn’t actually see down it. All he saw was a large expanse of darkness leading down to what was probably the fireplace. At least the fireplace wasn’t in use at the moment -- which was definitely a big factor in going about this, if he didn’t want to be burnt to a crisp --, but he still had to get down the fucking ash-chute of potential death.

His ladder wouldn’t fit inside of it, he knew that much, so he supposed his only option was to move down the chimney, get his phone, unlock his neighbor’s door, and leave that way. In retrospect, that was insanely illegal and not the right thing to do, but Frank figured he was on Santa’s naughty list anyway. He just wanted his phone, and he could totally prevent awkward confrontation this way. He swung his leg over the chimney, moving to sit on top of it. He then proceeded to slowly lower himself through the opening, keeping his legs firmly planted on one side of the chimney, and his back securely against the other. He made slow movements through the chimney that way, feeling the ash blacken his clothes and stain his skin. He tried not to breathe in too hard as it reeked of smoke.

He was surrounded by darkness, body folded in like an accordion, and he didn’t know how close or how far he was from finally reaching the bottom. As he continued to inch his way down, he heard the sound of a door being unlocked and then closed.

Oh shit.

He held his breath and ceased movement, listening intently to the sound of footsteps moving throughout the house. Frank banged his head back against the brick. Today was really his lucky day, wasn’t it?

Making as little noise as possible, he moved his feet upward, making his way back up the chimney. Frank suddenly realized why, in the children’s stories, Santa went down the chimney, but didn’t climb back up the fucking thing. It was nearly impossible.

He attempted to anyway, gliding his feet up the wall and rolling his shoulders to try and heave his body upwards. The process was painstakingly awful, and he had made about two inches of progress up the chimney before he lost footing and found himself falling down the darkness and landing on top of a pile of logs.

He crashed into the fireplace, a pang of pain shooting up his ass and legs. He was going to be picking out splinters for the rest of his life, but that was the least of his concerns when a man ran from his kitchen to gape at the stranger who was laying in his fireplace. Frank’s face was streaked with ash, and his hair was matted to his head from the snow, successfully making him look like a rat.

Frank grinned at him, “Ho, ho, ho?”

The man blinked at him. “You don’t look a lot like Santa.”

“You see,” Frank started to explain, “Santa is sick. I was the next best thing.”

The stranger wrinkled his nose, “Then I would hate to see who’d be the worst.”

Frank huffed indignantly, “You didn’t even leave out cookies and milk. I fell down a chimney for this shit.”

The man grabbed his phone from out of his jacket pocket, “Yeah, um, I’m going to call the cops now, actually. Make yourself at home in my fireplace, if you’d like.”

“No!” Frank exclaimed, sitting up and wiping some of the ash off his face with his coat sleeve, “Please, don’t. I’m not Santa, but I have a good explanation.”

“You have a good explanation for why you broke into my house,” the man stated, voice flat. Frank really would have expected the guy to be more angry or at least scared of some stranger who fell down his chimney.

“My phone fell down your chimney,” Frank said simply, sifting through the logs and ash to retrieve his phone, “See? I just needed to get it.”

“That,” the man said slowly, “Doesn’t really justify you jumping down my chimney. You still broke in. Why didn’t you just... I don’t know, knock?”

“I did!” Frank answered, “You weren’t home. I need my phone to continue the argument I had with my boss. I swear, I wasn’t going to rob you.”

The guy raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Alright. I won’t call the cops.”

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” Frank tried to joke light-heartedly, but his neighbor’s facial expression didn’t change.

“Get out of my house.”

Frank didn’t need to be told twice.

\--

Admittedly, he did feel sort of bad for breaking into his neighbor’s house on the morning of Christmas Eve. His neighbor probably would just prefer to never have to interact with Frank ever again, but it didn’t feel right to not make amends. Plus, his neighbor was sort of attractive, and the only time he’d seen Frank was when he was wet from melted snow and covered in smoke. That was an unfair advantage. 

When he left his neighbor’s house, he quickly finished fixing his lights, and went back inside to clean himself up. He showered and changed into clothes that didn’t reek of the pungency of smoke, and spent the rest of his morning and noon trying to conjure up ways to apologize.

He found himself on the front steps of his neighbor’s house that evening, looking considerably better and clean. He knocked, this time only waiting a couple minutes until the door was answered.

“Oh,” the man said, “It’s you again.”

“Nice to see you again too. Look,” Frank began, “Going down a stranger’s chimney wasn’t one of my brightest moments. I’m sorry for the trouble it caused. It wasn’t cool.”

“Okay,” was all he said in reply.

“I know this won’t... Won’t erase what happened. I brought you some sugar cookies and eggnog?” 

Frank held out the tupperware container filled with sugarcookies and the carton of eggnog. The neighbor accepted it cautiously.

“Why exactly did your phone end up in my fireplace?” He asked, still looking down at the cookies.

“It’s complicated.”

“Well,” the man shrugged, opening his door, “You can come in and explain?”

Frank figured that the story as to why he ended up taking a free-fall down some guy’s chimney was better left unsaid. He sort of wanted to keep his dignity. Then again, he wasn’t sure how much dignity he actually had left anymore.

“Yeah, I guess I owe you an explanation,” Frank agreed, letting the other man lead him into his house.

He followed his neighbor down a hall that led into a small family room, though it was fairly evident the man didn't have his own family. The house was an eerie quiet, and occupied by too little of furniture for anyone else to have been living there. His family room looked too big and empty -- only a sofa and a couple of arm chairs. There were no pictures on the wall anywhere, making the whole room look void of something that should’ve been there.

“Wait,” the man said quickly as they stopped in front of the sofa, “Before I let you sit on my furniture... You got all that ash off, right?”

Frank snorted, “You think I'd keep ash and wood chippings all over my ass?”

“You jumped down my chimney, I don't have any high expectations from you.”

Frank sat down on the sofa, the other man sitting in a love chair that was adjacent to him.

“First of all: I didn't jump down your chimney. I fell.”

“Like Alice in Wonderland?”

“Sure,” Frank said after a moment of consideration, “I’m Alice except that I’m not on hallucinatory drugs. Or in a dress.”

“I don’t think she was actually on drugs, and please don’t wear a dress. You don’t have the legs for it.”

“She was totally on drugs,” Frank retaliated as he straightened his legs, looking at them, “You don’t think I do?”

His neighbor watched silently as Frank bent his leg slightly, holding back a laugh. Frank paused for a moment to draw his legs back against the sofa before adding, “Hmm, maybe I don’t. You do.”

“I what?”

“Have the legs,” Frank shrugged, “For a dress.”

His neighbor rolled his eyes, not commenting on what Frank said. His eyes shifted to the side of the room that had nothing occupying it, fidgeting with the sleeves of his button-up. Frank watched him. 

“What’s your name?” Frank asked, eyes flicking over the man who furrowed his eyebrows at the sea of untouched carpet and empty walls.

“Gerard,” he replied, coming back to reality, “Are you going to give me yours, or will I have to refer to you as Alice?”

“Frank,” he offered, “But feel free to call me Alice.”

Gerard just shook his head at him disapprovingly. Frank wished he had what Alice did. Alice found a psychedelic wonderland at the bottom of the rabbit’s hole, and all Frank was finding was condescending neighbors. 

Gerard was silent. The only sound that could be heard was the steady ticking of the wall clock, counting down the seconds that Frank had to continue to sit there in an awkward silence. Gerard was tapping his index finger against the arms of his chair, either lost in thought or just at a loss for what to say.

“I was on my roof this morning,” Frank started, causing Gerard to look up abruptly, “The wind blew my Christmas lights half-off of my house so I went up there to fix it.”

“Wasn’t it snowing extremely hard this morning?” Gerard asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I wanted to fix my lights before they just blew away completely.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, “Doesn’t explain how you ended up in my fireplace.”

“My boss called me when I was up there, and it made me fall off my roof. Sort of. I was dangling by my Christmas lights so I narrowly escaped breaking my limbs.”

Gerard grinned and chuckled at that, and it was the first time Frank had seen him smile the entire visit.

“Hey, asshole, don’t laugh. It was traumatic.”

“Were you practicing to be a sugar plum fairy?” Gerard mustered out through a fit of laughter, doubling over slightly as the laughs racked his body.

“I didn’t have that much grace,” Frank laughed with him, “I felt more like a really festive Tarzan.”

Gerard laughed harder at that, a smooth laugh that filled his lungs and occupied all of the empty space in his house. In conclusion: Gerard’s laugh was sort of totally perfect, and Frank was really gay. 

“Okay, okay,” Frank continued while still laughing at Gerard, who was also still laughing, “So I was able to save my ass, got back onto my roof, and answered the call from my boss. He’s an asshole so I ended up throwing my phone. I threw it too hard, it ended up going down your chimney.”

“You managed to throw your phone in my chimney?” Gerard asked incredulously, “You should play basketball.”

“With my luck, I’d only be able to throw phones through the hoops and not basketballs.”

“And you’d only be able to do it after frustrating calls with your boss,” Gerard added.

Frank nodded, “Anyway, I knocked on your door and you weren’t home. I wanted to save myself from embarrassment.”

“I think going down my chimney was a lot more embarrassing.”

“Well,” he rolled his eyes, “I didn’t plan on getting caught. I was just going to go down, get my phone, then leave. Through, like, your door or window or something.”

Gerard hummed, “You clearly weren’t thinking. That was a dumb idea.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “I realize that now. I don’t know. I was tired and frustrated.”

There was a silence between them again. Gerard went back to fidgeting and smoothing his hand over the arm of his chair. Frank watched him for a moment before shifting around, realizing he should probably leave now. He felt bad for bothering Gerard and the conversation was clearly over.

“I’m sorry,” Frank apologized, still watching Gerard, “For ruining your Christmas Eve or whatever. I mean, at least you’ll have a story to tell at awkward work holiday parties? But I’m sorry anyway.”

He stood up, and Gerard stood up after him.

“It’s fine,” Gerard replied, smiling at him reassuringly. He started leaving the family room, and Frank trailed after him, not knowing his way around the house. 

He led Frank through another hallway, past his dining room that smelled of pine needle and hazelnut. Frank stopped for a moment, looking it over. In the corner of the small room was a real pine tree, adorned in white lights, golden tinsel, and sparkling silver ornaments. There were lights and flowers framing the windows, and shelves with snowglobes and glass knick knack angels. A wreath with a huge red bow hung from the top of the wall, and dark green candles on the table.

Gerard stopped, looking at Frank who was gaping at the room, “What?”

Frank blinked slowly, eyes flicking over the room and then back to Gerard, “Looks like my mom decorated your dining room.”

“I just like Christmas?” Gerard laughed breathily.

That made Frank feel a little worse about intruding on his Christmas Eve.

As if he could read his thoughts, Gerard continued as he led Frank to the front door, “You didn’t ruin my Christmas Eve. I’m not actually doing anything for Christmas. It’ll be just another day, really.”

“But,” Frank furrowed his eyebrows as they stopped in front of the door, “All of the decorations...? I thought you were throwing a party or something.”  
“I told you,” Gerard shrugged, “I just like Christmas. And I don’t like parties.”

Frank was putting on his gloves, “My family all went to Miami for the holidays, but I couldn’t afford to miss that much work. I’m spending my Christmas eating until I explode.”

Gerard chuckled at that. “My family is just over in Belleville, but I don’t talk to them.”

“No?” Frank asked, looking at Gerard who bit the inside of his cheek slightly.

“Nah,” he shook his head, releasing his cheek from the torment of his teeth, “I’m not really on good terms with them.”

Frank shoved his hands in his coat pockets, “Oh. Fuck, sorry for bringing it up.”

“You didn’t bring it up,” Gerard replied, “I did. Thanks for bringing the cookies and eggnog.”

“Uh, yeah,” Frank replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with how tense and awkward everything felt, “It’s nothing. Figured I had to compensate for breaking into your house somehow.”

Gerard laughed awkwardly, then everything was quiet again. Frank cast his eyes down at his shoes and then to the door, where a pair of golden bells was fastened around the knob. 

“Well, I’ll catch you later, Gerard,” Frank said politely, “Have a nice night.”

Gerard gave a small smile, “You too.”

He left Gerard’s house hearing the jingling of bells as the door closed softly behind him. He made his way through the snow-covered sidewalk to his house. The sun was already down, streetlights and the glow of decorated houses illuminating his path. 

\--

That night, Frank dreamt of walking alone down a sidewalk that was dusted in dark blue snow. The street was empty, and the street lights were his only company on a dark Christmas Eve night. He hugged his frame as he made his way down the sidewalk, snowflakes drifting from the wintry midnight sky. The more he walked, the thicker the blue snow got. It gathered around his ankles, and he struggled to lift his feet as he made his way through it. 

The sidewalk turned to a bridge, cast in shadows save for the dim glow of the street lights. Silhouetted against the pale moonlight was a figure. They were on the other side of the railing, one step away from the abyss that lay below the bridge.

Frank approached them. It was Gerard. The blue-grey snow fell around him.

“Gerard?” Frank asked, coming up right behind him. His black hair glistened with the snowflakes that glowed from the moon, “I think you’re on the wrong side of the railing.”

Gerard didn’t look at him, but leant back against the cold railing that had icicles forming beneath it.

“I’m not going to jump, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Frank didn’t know what to say. He knew he was in a dream, which meant he was lucid dreaming. He could do anything he wanted (it was his own mind, after all), yet he found he couldn’t do anything he’d want to. He just watched Gerard, elbows propped against the railing, and thought it funny that even the snow falls for him.

\--

Frank woke up at six in the morning with a knock at his door.

He trudged down the stairs in only flannel Christmas pajamas, hair in a mess, and eyes bleary from having just woken up -- and too soon, might he add. The days of waking up at the crack of dawn to open presents were long, long gone, and all he wanted to do was roll over and sleep until lunch. Hopefully without the creepy, vivid dreams, thanks.

He opened the door, and since he was still shirtless, was surprised by the blast of cold air that hit his exposed chest. His eyes, still adjusting to the sudden onslaught of light, took a moment before he recognized who was at his door.

“Oh,” Frank said, suddenly feeling weird because he was shirtless, “Hi, Gerard.”

“Good morning. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he replied, averting his eyes away from Frank’s chest and keeping them anywhere but.

“You’re good,” Frank assured him, rubbing at his eyes, “I mean this in the least rude way possible. What do you want?”

“Well,” Gerard started, toeing the snow off the tips of his shoes against the welcome mat, “Neither of us are doing anything for Christmas? Do you want to spend Christmas with me?”

Frank was surprised, to say the least. He sort of figured Gerard didn’t like him very much after, y’know, breaking into his house and all.

“Yeah,” Frank grinned, “What time?”

“Now,” Gerard answered, and he must’ve realized he sounded a bit too demanding by accident, “If you want. You can sleep more if you want.”

“Now is fine,” Frank shrugged, feeling goosebumps rise on his chest and arms, “I need to get dressed. Want to come in?”

Gerard nodded, and Frank led him into his living room. He didn’t care that Gerard tracked snow into the house.

“Cool,” Frank said, “Wait here.”

He went upstairs to his room, getting dressed quickly. He cast a glance at the mirror, using his fingers to fix his bed-head before he joined Gerard back in the living room.

“I want to take you out for breakfast,” was the first thing Gerard said when Frank entered the living room. Gerard had more confidence in his voice than he had just a few moments ago at the door. Frank smiled.

“That sounds great,” Frank replied happily as he was putting on his socks and shoes, “What places are open Christmas?”

“I think Village Inn is,” Gerard replied, watching Frank bundle up in his coat, gloves, and scarves. Gerard was wearing only a sweater and a beanie and Frank had to wonder if he was eve human.

They set off outside, walking over to Gerard’s driveway to get in his car. The sun was barely coming up. And yet, there were already kids chasing each other through the snow, sledding down icy hills and playing with their new toys on their front porch. Frank found children to be sort of obnoxious (hence, why he didn’t have any himself), but he missed the innocence and wonder of being a child. He was so excited to grow up, and for what? To have shitty bosses and stressful mortgage payments? Adulthood sucked.

Things didn’t suck too much at the moment. Gerard navigated his way through the neighborhood, humming softly to Deck The Halls as it played quietly on the radio. Frank was just glad it wasn’t Let It Snow. He was serious about calling the radio host to tell them they were fucking sadists to want more snow than they already had. White Christmas was definitely a reality here, too much so, Frank would argue.

They left the subdivision, going down winding roads that were mostly vacant due to the early morning and everyone wanting to spend their Christmas in home. It took them only a few more minutes to get to the Village Inn. The pair went inside, being hit with the sharp smell of peppermint and pancakes, and the welcoming warmth of the restaurant. The host greeted them with a grin, leading them to a booth. There were a few other people in the restaurant -- mostly families who were taking their children out after gift-opening --, but it was otherwise fairly unoccupied. 

Frank started flipping through his menu, trying to decide what looked best. He was fucking starving.

“You think they have pancakes with rainbow sprinkles on them?” Gerard asked, eyes locked on the pages of the menu.

“Yeah, on the children’s menu,” Frank retorted, but grinning nonetheless.

A waitress approached them at that moment, carrying a notepad and a broad smile. “What drinks could I get for you guys?”

“Hot chocolate,” Gerard grinned. Frank had to resist rolling his eyes (in the most affectionate way possible, of course). Frank may have been the immature one who went down Gerard’s chimney, but Gerard was such a child, despite his reserved and quiet countenance.

“Coke, please.”

The waitress nodded at them, scribbling things down with her pen, “Sure thing. That will be right out for you two.”

She turned to leave, but just as she did, Frank decided to call after her, “Wait!”

The woman turned back to them. 

“Do you have pancakes with those rainbow sprinkles on them? On the adult menu?”

Gerard had to stifle a laugh.

\--

“I can’t believe you really asked her if they had rainbow sprinkle pancakes,” Gerard laughed as they made their way out of the restaurant and into the car. Gerard started the key to turn the heat on, but didn’t start driving.

“You wanted them!” Frank argued in mock-indignation, “Besides, they sounded really good.”

“I checked the menu,” he shook his head at him, “I already knew they didn’t have it.”

Frank sighed, “It was still worth asking, asshole. Maybe Village Inn has a secret menu. Like at Starbucks.”

Gerard laughed again, changing gears to back up out of the parking lot to drive the pair home. Even though they didn’t have rainbow sprinkle pancakes (which, Frank wasn’t lying, did sound good), they had a great time getting to know each other more and enjoying a Christmas morning that they otherwise would’ve spent alone.

Frank learned a lot about Gerard. He had a brother over in New York, and he was the only family member Gerard actually kept contact with. Neither him or his brother could afford to see each other for the holidays, however, which Frank completely understood because he couldn’t afford to see his family until they came back tomorrow to celebrate New Years in their home state. 

Gerard didn’t delve into why he didn’t talk to the rest of his family, and it wasn’t Frank’s business to pry.

Gerard’s favourite holiday was Christmas, which didn’t come to much surprise after seeing his house yesterday. When Frank asked why, Gerard just shrugged and said, “I just love the feeling of it. It’s unlike any other holiday.” When Frank looked at him as he said that, Gerard’s eyes looked like chestnut swirled with golden tinsel, staring back at him like a glassy ornament that Frank could perfectly see his own face in.

Personally, Frank liked Halloween better but Gerard really made Christmas sound so magical, like it was when he were a kid. 

This whole thing sounded like one of those cheesy Christmas Hallmark movies that Frank’s mother liked.

They got back in the afternoon, taking some time to drive slowly around and look at Christmas lights, even if it weren’t dark outside. When they pulled into Gerard’s driveway, Frank turned to him excitedly, suddenly having an idea.

“We should go sledding!” He exclaimed, “It just snowed last night, and there’s a hill at the end of this block.”

“I don’t own a sled,” Gerard replied simply, smiling softly at Frank’s eagerness, “Do you?”

“Christmas is your favourite holiday and you don’t own a sled?” Frank shook his head, “Shame on you. I only have one, but we can share.”

Gerard followed Frank to his house, where we found a small, red sled that was obviously meant for a child in Frank’s garage.  
“It’s from my childhood,” Frank explained with a grin. Gerard looked at him skeptically.

“Are you sure it’s any good?”

“Last I checked, sleds don’t have expiration dates.”

“Let me reiterate,” Gerard laughed breathily, “Can it handle the weight of two grown ass men?”

“I think if I can fit down your chimney, I can fit on a sled,” Frank shrugged, already walking outside with the sled tucked under his arm.

“That’s a terrible comparison,” Gerard shook his head, but followed Frank to the end of the block where the sidewalk cut off and the field sloped into a hill, blanketed in snow.

Frank’s mother had been overprotective of him going out too much during the winter as a kid, under the pretense that he would get a cold every fucking time he even touched the snow. He did have a shitty immune system, to be fair, but he would sneak out a lot when she was still asleep to sled.

He positioned the sled at the start of the hill, already feeling the excitement and small adrenaline rush in his veins. The memories from secretly sledding came rushing back to him, and he plopped down at the front of the sled excitedly.

“Okay, now get on the back of the sled,” Frank called to Gerard, grasping the rope of the sled in his hands.

“What? I thought we were taking turns,” Gerard said, “You really think we’re both going to fit on this small ass thing?”

“Yes, and it’ll go faster if we’re both on it.”

Gerard shrugged, walking around to sit behind Frank on the sled. He pushed himself up against Frank so that his whole body could fit. In order to keep his legs in the sled, he had to have one leg on either side of Frank, to which Frank smiled. That was sort of the whole ideal of sharing the sled (which made Frank happy that Gerard didn’t actually own a sled himself).

Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank to keep himself steady. When he spoke, his breath was warm on Frank’s face.

“Alright, I’m ready.”

Frank nodded, using one leg to push them forward, and scooted until they were at the edge of the hill. He drew his leg back in, shifting all of his body weight forward so that the sled went racing down.

The wind was loud in his ears, but louder than that was the sound of Gerard’s laugh as they flew down the steep hill. Frank grinned, feeling Gerard’s arms tighten around him as they picked up speed.

They slowed to a stop as the ground evened out. Gerard still kept his arms around Frank for a moment afterwards, not releasing until Frank turned to him. Gerard was grinning brightly.

“Let’s go again!” Gerard exclaimed, “But I want to try the front this time.”

He threw himself up, already grabbing onto the rope to bring the sled to the top of the hill. Frank ran after him, breathless and happy.

\--

They went back to Frank’s house after sledding, slightly soaked from falling off the sled into the snow banks a few times. Frank asked Gerard to pick out a movie for them to watch as he made the both of them apple cider to warm up. Frank’s face felt flushed and numb from the frigid snow and bitter winds, but he felt alive, his stomach churning with warmth and all of those cliche feelings he’d find in a tacky Christmas-romance movie.

He came back with two mugs of apple cider, setting it in front of them on the coffee table. Gerard had already got the movie set up. Frank slid next to him on the couch rather than sitting anywhere else, which felt bold, even though it really, really wasn’t. 

Gerard thanked him for the cider before starting the movie, laying the remote down to sip at his drink. Frank was glad he hadn’t chosen any of the seasonal Home Alone movies (he hated those movies, even as a kid). He had chosen a classic: A Christmas Carol.

They watched the movie, sometimes making commentary or pausing to get more cider. After the movie concluded, they sat there for awhile talking.

“Did you ever watch the Muppets’ version of A Christmas Carol?” Frank asked as he placed his empty mug of apple cider down, “I watched the shit out of it.”

“I watched it, but it wasn’t my favourite,” Gerard admitted, “I preferred the classic.”

“I’m appalled,” Frank deadpanned before breaking out in a smile, “Kermit made the whole story a million times better.”

“My younger brother would probably agree with you,” Gerard laughed, “He loved the Muppets.”

“Well, then your brother has good taste,” Frank took the disk out of his DVD player to put back in its case, “My parents and I always watched the Muppets’ A Christmas Carol together on Christmas. My parents are divorced, though. Which meant I could lie to them and say that the other parent hadn’t watched it with me. Just so I could watch it twice that day.”

Gerard chuckled softly, but didn’t say anything. When Frank settled back on the couch, he looked distant.

“Sorry,” Frank apologized, realizing, “I don’t mean to keep bringing up my family. I’m sorry if it’s rude since... y’know...” He trailed off, feeling even ruder for apologizing and bringing up a fragile subject. Jesus Christ.

“What? No, no,” Gerard shook his head vehemently, “Please don’t tiptoe around me. Honestly, I love that you talk about your family. I’m not usually all weirdly sentimental like this. The holidays are just so family-orientated and it’s shoved in your face everywhere you go.”

Gerard paused before continuing, “I love Christmas, though. I love to celebrate it for myself, but at the end of the day, the reality is that I haven’t talked to or seen my family in years, and I don’t have them anymore.”

Frank didn’t know what to say, but he wished he did. He wished he knew how to comfort him, or what to do to make him feel better. He wasn’t good at these kinds of things.

All he could do was smile reassuringly at Gerard, placing a hand on his knee. He still couldn’t find words.

Luckily, Gerard did what Frank was unable, and filled the silence.

“After my grandma passed away, my family was really on edge and we fought a ton. Things were tense, and when I told my parents I wanted to go to an art college instead of pursuing something traditional, they were condescending and unsupportive. I moved away, betrayed that they didn’t support my decisions. They didn’t make any effort to contact me, and I never made effort to contact them. After awhile, I felt sick of waiting for them to come around and changed my phone number. Mikey -- that’s my brother --, he says they’ve been trying to reach out to me. I’m not bitter about it anymore, but I don’t know how to have a relationship with them again.”

Gerard drew in a breath, “Sorry, I just totally overshared and I’m kind of rambling --”

“Gerard,” Frank interrupted him, “Don’t apologize, dork.”

Gerard nodded.

“It’s not my place to tell you what you should do,” Frank continued, rubbing Gerard’s knee gently, “I think you should do what you think is best for you.”

Gerard grinned at him, “Thanks. After moving here a few months ago, away from my friends and brother, I was convinced I was going to be... all alone, or whatever.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Frank smiled, looking up at him.

“Me too,” he agreed, looking earnestly at him.

Frank’s eyes flicked over Gerard’s face, meeting his eyes. They didn’t say anything. Frank’s hand was still on his knee, and he brushed his fingers softly against Gerard’s jeans. Gerard leant forward, inviting, and Frank met him halfway.

This was definitely like a cheesy Hallmark movie, Frank thought as their lips touched. Frank moved his hand from Gerard’s knee, placing it on the small of his back and bringing him closer. Gerard placed his hands on Frank’s hips, gripping softly.

His lips were soft, framing Frank’s gently and making his entire body radiate warmth. Frank fanned his fingers out, letting them run up and down Gerard’s back. Their mouths slid together, tasting of apple cider and pancakes, and everything felt fucking perfect. It was the best Christmas Frank could remember having in a long time.

Frank pulled them backwards, landing against the soft cushions of the couch with Gerard leaning over him. Frank’s fingers traced his shoulder blades, ghosting over his chin to cradle his face as they kissed. Gerard kept one hand securely holding Frank’s hip, using his other hand to stay gently behind his head, caressing the back of his neck.

They pulled away a few moments later, panting softly for breath. Gerard eased off of him, and Frank sat up as well. They sat pressed together for a few moments, catching their breaths and grinning.

Gerard didn’t say anything as he rose to his feet. Frank’s eyes followed him as he walked to Frank’s back door, looking out the window.

Frank could feel vibration in his back pocket. He took it out, looking at the caller I.D. with a sign before reluctantly answering it. 

“Frank,” Brian’s voice came through. Frank really hoped his boss was just calling to wish him a Merry Christmas and not try to ruin his perfect day by reminding him he had work tomorrow, “What did you need that day off for?”

“To pick my mother up from the airport and celebrate a late Christmas with her...” Frank answered skeptically, “Why?”

“Look, I feel bad that you needed that day off, and you can’t help that Lindsey got sick. I’ll get someone else to cover you, alright? Consider this your Christmas gift from me.”

Frank beamed, “I will! Thank you, Brian, seriously.”

He hung up the call, feeling even happier than he did a minute ago, if that was even possible after kissing Gerard.

“It’s snowing again,” Gerard reported after he had put his phone away, turning to where Frank was still on the couch.

Frank got up, following Gerard who had already ventured out into his backyard. 

Frank was in only a t-shirt, the freezing New Jersey air biting at his exposed skin. He shut the door behind them, standing in his yard and looked out past his fence where the sun was beginning to go down.

The Christmas lights in Frank’s yard were glowing blue, making the snowflakes that were drifting around them look like a deep ocean blue as well. Frank felt deja vu looking at the blue snow and darkening sky, and he was unable to place it until he looked over at Gerard.

Gerard’s face was illuminated in the glow of the Christmas lights, snowflakes glistening in his hair and landing perfectly on his eyelashes. He looked like he did in Frank’s dream, standing on the bridge in the beauty of the midnight winter.

Gerard smiled softly at Frank, who was still gazing at Gerard, remembering how the man had looked, outlined against the moon and snow, looking like a Christmas angel on the bridge. 

Gerard clasped his hand, fingers tangling together. He swung them slightly, laughing when Frank stuck his tongue out to try and catch snowflakes on his tongue.

“Did your parents ever tell you that bullshit thing about how you can’t eat the first snow?” Frank asked after failing to get any snowflakes.

“It was bullshit?” Gerard asked, “I thought it was true.”

Still holding Gerard’s hand, he moved forward to try and catch the snow at a different angle. Gerard burst out into laughter at how ridiculous Frank looked, looking up to the sky with his mouth open. After a minute, a snowflake finally fell and melted on his tongue. Frank closed his mouth and grinned at Gerard.

“Well, I ate the first snow every year,” Frank replied with a smirk, the lingering taste of snow on his tongue, “And I’m still alive.”

Gerard ran his thumb over Frank’s hand, “And I’m glad you are. And you know what?”

“What?” Frank asked, still grinning as he watched the snow settle on them. He didn’t even feel cold as it landed on his exposed skin.

“I’m glad you fell down my chimney,” Gerard smiled, bringing their joined hands up to kiss Frank’s knuckles. Frank beamed at him, moving forward to kiss his cold cheek. 

“Merry Christmas, Frank.”

Crystalline snow cast in the blue light fell around them, and Frank had a good feeling about this upcoming new year.

“Merry Christmas, Gerard.”


End file.
